


Butterfly's Repose

by jungkooksfic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cute, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Fluffyfest, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Protective Iwaizumi Hajime, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27931144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungkooksfic/pseuds/jungkooksfic
Summary: Loving is never easy.But it feels easier when you've known them all your life.The journey of Iwaizumi Hajime's and Oikawa Tooru's romance.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy guys! Guess what, I'm procrastinating on my bokuaka and daisuga fics by writing this little Drabble :3  
> The chapters will be super short, and this fic overall probably won't be super long.   
> Btw I took the title from the song "Butterfly's Repose" by Zabawa because I think that song really matches the energy of this fic.

Iwaizumi didn’t mean to do it.

He didn’t mean to do _it,_ the forbidden thing.

His mother always told him to never fall asleep in public places without someone to watch over him. _“It’s dangerous, Hajime,”_ she had told him in that stern yet soft voice she always used when she wanted him to remember something, _“but if you make a friend, they can watch over you if you want to take naps in the park.”_

Iwaizumi had curled his lip, but nodded. Even at the small age of six, he still had a stubbornness that would only grow as he aged.

Iwaizumi decided to fall asleep in the park anyways. He didn’t _mean_ to, as he had been laying flat on his back and looking up to the bright, clear sky. The last thing he remembered was how nice the dewy grass felt against his overheated body from the summer heat, and before he knew it, he was waking up to the sound of something very _shrill_ and very _annoying._

Disoriented and cranky from being awoken from his nap, Iwaizumi rose to his feet and blinked a few times before he looked around with a stormy, irritated expression. What was that shrill sound? It had the same affect of a fly buzzing against an ear.

But, with enough investigation, Iwaizumi discovered that this insect of a sound was coming from a boy around his age, hair fluffy and definitely needing a haircut. Despite seeming around six, he was wailing something terrible from where he cradled himself on the ground. At first, Iwaizumi was confused as he didn’t see any reason _why_ the boy would be crying so much. But upon further inspection, he noticed a scuff on the boy’s knee. He must’ve fallen on the playground on the cement section surrounding the swings. Iwaizumi’s face scrunches in annoyance. For a kid who cried so loud, what was he doing by himself?

Did he need a friend, too?  
See, Iwaizumi didn’t have many friends. Actually, “many” was an overstatement. He had _no_ friends. He would spend his weekends following after his older brother or keeping his younger sister out of trouble. Not that it mattered; he was only six years old after all.

Iwaizumi debated what to say as he took a tentative step closer to the boy, who was too busy hiding his face behind his quivering hands to notice how he stood there above him, awkward and unknowing of what to do. He fumbled for different things to say. He should comfort him, right? But whenever Iwaizumi took tumbles like this, he’d just get up and get on the swings again. He frowns. Maybe he could teach this boy how to stand up and dust himself off.

“Hey!” Iwaizumi blurts, though when the sniveling boy looked up, he suddenly realized that he had no idea what he was going to say. Now that the boy was looking at him, he could see the entirety of his face; he had wide eyes, brown but warm. But he was an ugly crier, in a way that reminded him of how his younger sister used to cry when she was a baby. The boy’s face got all scrunched, and his lips were pouted, and there was so many tears and snot that it made Iwaizumi cringe. “Gross,” he says before he thinks too much about it. He can almost hear his mother scolding him.

The boy looks up at him and sniffles loudly, still huddled on the ground. Iwaizumi panics instantly as it looked like the boy might start crying all over again. “Did you fall off the swings?” Iwaizumi asks, trying to think of what his mom always told him, which was to _make conversation._

The boy ducks his head and nods, and wipes his nose on his sleeve. “I was- I was swinging, and then, and then my meanie older brother decided to leave me here all alone, and then I fell!” The boy whined that last bit, and just talking seemed to make him burst into tears all over again. He dug his heels against his closed eyelids.

Iwaizumi didn’t suppress the groan that rose in his throat as his face curled in that angry old-man pout (as his sister called it). “Would you stop that?” Iwaizumi says in irritation as he finds himself kneeling on the groan in front of the boy, swatting his arms away from where they cradled over his body and inspected the scuffs on his knees. Iwaizumi frowned in focus. It did look painful, but not painful enough for such a dramatic display, in his opinion.

Iwaizumi looked up to find the stranger looking up at him with big, glassy eyes. He gulps. “How about.. how about we put on a bandaid?” Iwaizumi thinks. The boy quickly shakes his head.

“Bandaids are ugly!” he complains, “I don’t want my knees to have bandaids!”

Iwaizumi lifts up his elbow in front of Oikawa to reveal two crossed bandaids there, one with smiley faces and the other with multi-colored stars. “We can both have bandaids,” Iwaizumi offers.

After only a few seconds of thought, the boy nods and allows himself to be helped to his feet. “Okay! Let’s go, then.” Then he freezes. “Wait, I can’t go home with strangers!”

Iwaizumi freezes too, and looks to the stranger with a reflected expression. “Let’s be friends, then. Then we won’t be strangers.”  
The boy grins, despite sobbing up a storm just moments ago. “Really?! Yeah, let’s be friends. Best friends!”

Iwaizumi thinks for a second. “ _Best_ friends?”  
The boy steps forward, hands on his hips, seemingly excited to give this definition. “It’s a pinky-promise that I’ll be your favorite person and you’ll be my favorite person!” On cue, the boy held out his hand, but Iwaizumi hesitated.

“But… what’s your name? You can’t be my favorite person if I don’t know your name,” Iwaizumi thinks aloud.

“Oikawa,” the boy says, and his eyes seemed to glitter as he said his own name.

“I’m Iwaizumi,” he responded effortlessly, and not a second later, he latched his pinky onto Oikawa’s.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chirps on the way back as, somehow, he convinced Iwaizumi to let him hold his hand as they walked to Iwaizumi’s house to put bandaids on Oikawa’s knees. Iwaizumi grumbles something without real protest.

Iwaizumi’s mother loved him.

That love would only grow as that little crying boy would come over nearly every day for the next twelve years and beyond.


	2. Chapter 2

Iwaizumi’s favorite post-high school memory of the two of them took place when they were nine years old.

It was too cold and too dark for either of them to be fully comfortable, but it didn’t really matter when the sky was sprinkled with more stars than he could count (Oikawa tried, and succinctly failed).

They’d been friends for almost exactly three years. They’d had a lot of ups and downs, but mostly ups, from what Iwaizumi could tell. They’d laughed more than they’d cried (Oikawa used to cry a lot, but now he didn’t).

Iwaizumi learned what it meant to be a good friend. He learned how to take Oikawa’s hands in his own when he cried, and how to lightly smack him on the back of the head when he was being stupid. He learned the face Oikawa made when he was about to laugh, or the scrunch of his nose when he was angry, or how his brows furrowed when he was thinking hard.

But tonight was the checkpoint that went from best friends to friends for life.

There was enough breeze for the two boys to be huddled together, short limbs huddled together awkwardly, but neither seemed to care as all attention was focused on the sky. At first, all either could notice was the stars, but then, Oikawa squawked and sat up quickly enough to nearly send them tumbling off of where they were perched on Iwaizumi’s roof.

“Iwa-chan, look!” Oikawa points his stubby finger ahead of them, towards the ground, where the stars reflected onto the grass. Iwaizumi squinted. No, the stars weren’t on the ground. Those were fireflies. “Iwa, Iwa, the stars look 3D when the fireflies are out, don’t you think?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t even bother smacking Oikawa for being so loud when it was so peaceful at night. His eyes merely widen with absolute awe.

Iwaizumi follows suit by sitting up and peering over the ledge of the roof. Despite the colder weather and breeze, it seemed the fireflies still managed to come out on this night, marking the end of the warm, muggy summer nights. “It’s so cool they could come out even when it’s kinda cold,” Iwaizumi says almost just to himself. His legs dangle off the roof.

“Careful careful, Iwa-chan, or you’ll fall!” He feels a pair of arms wrap around him, and Iwaizumi just leans into it. They both sit in a silence as they admire the fireflies flickering like tiny, old lights. There were so many; in the miniature forest on the side of Iwaizumi’s house, down the street near Oikawa’s, and all over the ground like sprinkled, illuminated glitter.

“Maybe you should catch some with your bug net,” Oikawa inquires, his usually shrill voice lowered with the atmosphere, “y’know, like we do with the caterpillars sometimes?”  
Iwaizumi thinks. Especially over summers, the two liked to adventure and collect caterpillars in his bug net to put in “bug homes” and watch as they grew into beautiful butterflies. They always let them go, though.

“Hm,” Iwaizumi says aloud, “I don’t think so, Kawa. Fireflies only like coming out at night. Wouldn’t it be mean if we didn’t let them come out at night anymore?”  
Oikawa makes a small sighing sound before he admits, “I guess I never thought about it like that.”  
And then they both stayed quiet.

Even in the darkness where all Iwaizumi could see was the distant highlights from the stars and the shadows of the trees, and yellow, eerie glow from the fireflies, Iwaizumi could tell Oikawa was smiling almost as wide as he was.

“I like watching the butterflies grow up,” Oikawa says, “Iwa-chan, can we find some more caterpillars tomorrow?”

Iwaizumi hums, which seemed to be enough for Oikawa, because he shut up for real this time. They stayed just like that, Oikawa hugging Iwaizumi from behind, both in a trance from the fireflies, before Iwaizumi’s mother called them both down for bed.


	3. Chapter 3

From middle school on, Iwaizumi had only let Oikawa see him cry once.

Even when they were kids, Iwaizumi didn’t cry much. Sometimes when he’d slip and fall, he couldn’t help it, but it would be short-lived as it only took seconds for Oikawa to run over and fuss over him.

It turns out, not much had changed.

Iwaizumi had been sixteen when he got the news that his grandmother passed away. It wasn’t as if they were extremely close or anything. Somehow, that made her passing worse. It made the guilt heavier.

He hadn’t seen her for a month or two, not since Christmas time. The season had left, but the cold remained. Especially when his parents both came in his room with grim expressions.

 _“We’re so sorry,”_ they kept saying. Iwaizumi just shook his head and asked to be alone.

He stared at his ceiling for a long time after that. He could hear his parents whispering outside his door, could hear how his mother was close to breaking. He put on headphones.

An hour later (maybe it was only five minutes, he had no idea), his door opened. Iwaizumi sat up, and slipped off his headphones, thoroughly irritated as he had _asked_ to be alone, but his face slackened when he realized who it was.

Oikawa shut the door behind him, slipped off his sneakers in their usual spot, and looked over to Iwaizumi. He didn’t give him that sickening, shallow expression of pity.

He gave him a look that at first, he couldn’t read. But he would soon be able to distinguish it as one of unconditional love.

Before he could get out a single word, Oikawa sat beside him on the bed and wrapped him up in a hug in one elegant swoop. Usually, whenever Oikawa tried to hug him or be playful, Iwaizumi swatted him away or wriggled out of his grasp. But this time, he didn’t so much as twitch in complaint. He just kind of… melted into the embrace.

His face was buried into Oikawa’s shoulder. He smelled like lavender and sweat. He must’ve worked out before he came here. Actually, he realized he was in his favorite volleyball practice shirt, too. Had Oikawa left his volleyball practice to come here?

Iwaizumi opened his mouth and tried to protest, but before he could, Oikawa seemed to sense it as he rested his chin on top of Iwaizumi’s head and murmured, “I’m here, Hajime. I’m here.”

Iwaizumi screwed his face further into Oikawa’s shoulder, exhaled a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and all of a sudden, he just let it all go. All of the tension residing in his shoulders, the dam of emotions he never let run free. He let it all go and cried so hard he feared he’d shatter

He sobbed and sobbed and clutched onto Oikawa so tightly that he practically clung to him, begging to never be let go. He was trying to babble something but Oikawa just hushed him and stroked along his back.

“It’s okay,” Oikawa said, voice soft and sincere, “you don’t need to pretend with me. When you’re ready to talk, you can.”

Iwaizumi nods and even if he’d stopped crying, he didn’t move. He stayed quiet and nuzzled into Oikawa’s neck, he loosened his grip but never let go.

“Thank you, Tooru,” Iwaizumi said into his shoulder.

“Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t hear you,” Oikawa murmured, and even if his voice was quiet, the playfulness still was there. A bitter, sad sob of a laugh left Iwaizumi’s lips,

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” he rasps, and he can feel Oikawa’s soft chuckle hum against him as he said,

“There’s my Iwa-chan.”

They stayed like that until Iwaizumi fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

One time, Oikawa got drunk.

Actually, that was a severe understatement. Oikawa got drunk a few times in high school, but only once before they were in their third year. Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa wasn’t much of a partier; he would always tell Iwaizumi: _“My body is my temple, Iwa-chan. I must treat it with respect! Alcohol is disrespectful. Besides, I’m way too pretty to spend my weekends throwing up and getting over hangovers.”_

As stupid as he said it, Iwaizumi agreed with the principle. Oikawa was too driven and too hard-working to waste time getting drunk.

So one could imagine the shock Iwaizumi felt when he got his first drunk call from his best friend.

The call itself was expected. Oikawa called Iwaizumi plenty at any hour of the day; as resentful as Iwaizumi pretended to be at the beginning of their calls, they always ended up talking for two hours or more. Often times, they ended up playing video games together, like Minecraft, or some dumb space-based game Oikawa found.

But this time, there was no _“Yaho, Iwa-chan~ wanna come over and make me some milk bread again?”_ Instead, Iwaizumi was met with silence for a long time, before he cleared his throat.

“Shittykawa? Did you butt-dial me again?”

_“Huh? Who is this?”_

Iwaizumi’s eyebrow twitched. “You’re the one who called me, you dumbass-”

 _“Iwa-chan!”_ Oikawa exclaims, voice shrill with that childish excitement, actually making Iwaizumi cringe at how it sounded over the phone, _“ohhh, it’s you! How kind of you to call me!”_

Iwaizumi’s patience was running low. “I didn’t-”

_“Well, now that you’re here, you get to listen to me.”_

His brow raised slowly once he realized that there was a distinct sound of too-loud bass-boosted music drifting in from wherever Oikawa was. He frowned. “What the fuck are you doing blasting music like that? It’s late. You should go to sleep.”

Oikawa laughs. It’s a slurred, half-laugh thing that Iwaizumi has never heard from him before. His eyes narrow. _“Iwa-chan, are you my mom? You’re so funny, you know that?”_

“Are you drunk?” Iwaizumi asks, the amusement creeping into his voice.

There’s silence after that inquiry. _“No,”_ Oikawa answers unconvincingly, _“no, I’m not drunk. I just had a little to drink. Tasted gross though. So gross! Where am I again?”  
_ “I don’t know, idiot, you tell me,” Iwaizumi says through clenched teeth. “Tell me where you are so I can pick you up.”  
 _“Wow, Iwa-chan, so bossy! I’m at my step-brother’s house. It’s really smelly here. Like, so smelly. Smells like feet, so gross! There’s no way this is good for my skin. Can you get me one of those noodle bowls on the way home? And then can we get some ice cream?”_

“Goodbye, Oikawa. Stay put,” Iwaizumi huffs, and hangs up to put an end to Oikawa’s drunken babbling and all its nonsense.

Somehow, Iwaizumi managed to drag Oikawa home. Upon entering, he realized that Oikawa had been right about one thing: it smelled. Like people and body odor and beer. He scrunched his nose. Iwaizumi hardly got party invites, and the ones he did manage to receive were met with a prompt decline. He was determined to keep his head in the game, literally. And besides? What fun was it if Oikawa wasn’t there.

Not that that _mattered,_ of course.

But Iwaizumi managed to push through the crowd, and the one thing that _didn’t_ shock him about this entire ordeal was that Oikawa was incredibly easy to track down. All he had to do was look up and find the guy standing on his step-brother’s dinner table, form wobbling and legs quivering from holding up his weight. A few people cheered him on drunkenly, and though there was a considerable gathering surrounding the table in which he stood on, not many actually had the capacity to pay attention.

“And now, for my final trick, I will sing a song, just for you!” Oikawa slurs, his finger pointing directly at the wall. A few people cheer weakly. Iwaizumi groans and pushes by a few more people, his arms folded and expression incredibly unimpressed.

“Get down from there, dumbass,” Iwaizumi huffs, brows raised. Oikawa looked down at him. His pupils were very dilated.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa explodes, “I’ll sing for _you!”_

“Oh my God, please, no. Just get _down_ you idiot.”

Oikawa ignored him and cleared his throat, swaying dangerously before (somewhat) steadying and singing, “IF YOU LIKE PIÑA COLAADAAAS! AND GETTIN’ CAAAAUGHT IN THE RAIN- IF…” The karaoke backtrack continued on and Oikawa babbled before he furrowed his brows and realized he had fallen behind, and his voice crack before he belted, “IF YOU LIKE MAKING LOVE AT MIIIIDNIGHT-” Iwaizumi had to admit that he was cracking up at Oikawa and his drunken nonsense, and the way his voice cracked and he was so off key but it was _funny_ and Iwaizumi couldn’t remember the last time he laughed-

And then suddenly, Oikawa was falling forwards off the table, and in a rush, Iwaizumi swept forward to catch him. Oikawa didn’t land immediately in his arms, but he managed to grab hold of his torso, and despite taking quite the fall, Oikawa just fucking _giggled._

The karaoke track to “The Escape” still played on and, despite this display, no one gave Oikawa or Iwaizumi any mind, really. “Carry me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa swoons as he dramatically brought the back of his hand to his forehead, and Iwaizumi’s brow twitched as Oikawa leaned further into Iwaizumi’s arm like the entire princess he was.

And that was precisely how Iwaizumi ended up slinging Oikawa over his shoulder like a fireman and hauling him over to the car. Despite his constant complaints and threats to leave his friend behind, Iwaizumi wouldn’t dream of giving up on Oikawa.

After successfully buckling him into his seat and starting up the car to go to the 24-hour mart to get Oikawa one of those noodle bowls he was obsessed with, Iwaizumi parked only to find that Oikawa had fallen asleep. His entire form was slumped, head leaned against the cool glass of the window, lips parted and lashes heavy. His hair was a little out of place, a few strands falling over his closed eyes in a way that made Iwaizumi want to tuck the strand behind his ear. His lips looked so soft.

_Nope. Gonna ignore that last thought._

Huffing in annoyance (he was annoyed that Oikawa could fall asleep drunk and still look so good), Iwaizumi drove to Oikawa’s house, parked in his usual spot and, despite trying to shake him awake, (Oikawa grumbled and whined and failed at pretending that he was asleep still) Iwaizumi gave in and hauled him up to his room, took off his shoes and jeans for him, and tucked him into bed.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbled, rolling over onto his stomach. Before Iwaizumi could scold him for making him tuck him into bed despite being awake, but before he could, Oikawa seemed to have fallen asleep.

“Good night, dumbass,” Iwaizumi mumbled. He could have just slept next to Oikawa instead of driving home at this hour, but he decided against it. He didn’t like the thoughts going through his head earlier, the thoughts of how nice it must be to kiss Oikawa, how nice it would be to lay down and wrap his arms around him and kiss his forehead and-

It wasn’t normal.

So Iwaizumi slept in his own, cold bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> head canon that Iwa and Oikawa love playing video games together.


End file.
